


Diamonds and Hearts

by bloodyromantic



Series: The Heart of a Knave [10]
Category: Alice in Wonderland (2010)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyromantic/pseuds/bloodyromantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A newly-discovered cousin of Ilosovic Stayne visits Marmoreal and seems to be a perfect romantic match for Queen Mirana. But nothing in Underland ever runs so smoothly, does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. News from Afar

_I always like to know everything about my new friends, and nothing about my old ones.  
~ Oscar Wilde_

Ilosovic Stayne crumpled the letter up in his hand before it occurred to him that his wife (a concept that still sounded unlikely to him) might want to read it too. For that matter, she might have some helpful perspective or at least ironic commentary that he would appreciate. So he flattened out the piece of parchment as best he could and delivered it to Casiphia where she sat picking out a bit of embroidery she was displeased with.

“What now? No, I'm not vexed with you, it's this wretched metallic thread,” she said crossly, biting off an end and taking the paper from him. 

As she read, the expression on her face changed from vexation to curiosity to outright dismay. “I thought you didn't have any family,” she said, looking up.

“So I was told,” Ilosovic said, taking the letter back. “But I have given up trying to predict where my life will go next.”

“Queast,” Casiphia mused. “It's far enough away that I suppose family could go undiscovered for some time. But that part about him wanting to visit you here—I can't help but think this might be a new ploy from someone wanting to get into Marmoreal. I'd like to think we're smarter here than to let someone suspicious in, but if someone wanted merely to see the castle, he could simply ask. Still, I suppose someone from far away might not know that, and might think a connection was the only way to gain admittance.”

“You think I should encourage him, then,” Stayne said.

“I don't know about encourage,” Casiphia said. “But I don't think you need to turn him down outright, either. I admit to being curious to meet this alleged cousin of yours.”

Ilosovic flopped down in the chair across from Casiphia's. “I can't say I ever felt the lack of family outside of my parents,” he said. “Your parents and aunts and uncles are friendly enough--” he cut off the protest he could see she was about to make, “but generally family seems to me more of a hindrance than anything.”

“Well, maybe this mysterious man will make you feel differently,” Casiphia said. “And now I need to finish what I'm doing before it's time to dress for dinner, or I will spend the meal fretting over it.”

“You can't possibly have made such a jumble of it,” Stayne said.

“Some enterprises are more important than others,” she said. “And that is all I am going to say about that.”

“Then I will go see if I can intimidate the valet who assists me tonight,” he said.

“Have fun! I hope it's someone new so you can have a fresh victim.”

Ilosovic paused on his way out of the room. “I have had a terrible influence on you, haven't I?”

“Not at all,” she said, waving him away, and chuckling, he went.


	2. Seeing Ahead

_It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information.  
~Oscar Wilde_

Casiphia went with Stayne to show the letter to Mirana because he had not learned to read the queen as well as she could—understandable given that Casiphia had been Mirana's lady-in-waiting essentially her entire life—and sometimes Mirana's true feelings were not entirely easy to discern.

“How curious,” Mirana murmured as the two stood before her writing desk. “I did not know there were any Staynes in Queast, although the communication between that country and ours is not always the best. Would you like me to scry to see if I determine anything about this man?”

Casiphia looked at Stayne, thinking the answer to that was more appropriately his. “You would do that?” he said. “For me?”

“Yes, Ilosovic, I would do that,” Mirana said, dimpling. “I have come to accept your presence here, and I perhaps do not dislike you as much as I once did.”

“That means yes,” Casiphia whispered as her consort took that all in. 

“Then yes, Your Majesty, I would quite appreciate that.”

Mirana stood up and shook out her silvery skirts (a young rabbit appeared from somewhere deep in the room to assist her with the task), and led the other two out of the room, down two flights of stairs. Stayne looked increasingly nervous as they approached the dungeons, but Mirana stopped well clear of that floor and led them from the landing down a softly-lit hallway.

The door she eventually came to was the same light wood as other doors in the White Castle, but it seemed to give off a gentle glow of its own. It swung open silently to the touch of Mirana's hand, and the trio entered a small chamber whose only furnishing was a round white marble table with a silver bowl atop it.

Mirana removed a silver salver from a niche in the marble wall and from it poured a stream of water that shimmered in the ambient light. She closed her eyes, made several passes over the bowl with her hands as she whispered something that sounded for all the world like “abracadabra.” Then she opened her dark eyes and gestured for Casiphia and Stayne to join her.

Trembling slightly at their footfalls, the water in the bowl turned dark. Then an image began forming, forcing itself up to the surface, and the three leaned over the bowl to see what was coming into view.

“That is definitely Queast,” Mirana said. “The far border, just by the Outlands. And the man on the bay horse must be the one we are asking about.”

She passed her hand over the bowl again and the image focused in on the man.

“Well, he certainly is a good-looking one,” she said with a giggle. At that, the man in the image turned his head as if he had heard her, which Mirana assured the others was impossible, and looked directly at her with deep blue eyes. His hair could only be described as gold, and he sat tall upon his horse in garb of violet and blue.

“Lovely,” Ilosovic grumbled. “At least he knows well enough not to wear red to the queen's scrying.”

Casiphia snorted. “Oh, Mirana, I'm sorry—did I hurt the spell?”

“No, dear,” Mirana said, looking at her with bright eyes. “I think we have learned all that we can from this scrying. We can trust that this man is coming from Queast, and we did not see any soldiers or hangers-on that might prove a problem. Simply one man and his horse, and I am certain that we can handle any threat he might pose. And perhaps he will not pose a threat at all.” She smiled coyly.

Casiphia looked askance at Ilosovic as they left the scrying room. “I certainly hope you don't have the same reaction to him,” he said as soon as he was sure Mirana was out of earshot.”

“I don't know what that was,” she said. “But you—you have nothing to fear from this purported cousin of yours. If I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't be.”

By now Ilosovic had to admit that was likely true. 

“He isn't the kind of man I like, anyway,” she said.

“So...what kind of man do you like?” They were stopped in the corridor now, his hands upon her shoulders.

“Hmm...a tall man...” She stretched up to kiss him. “Maybe one whose appearance shows that he has been a brave soldier and suffered much for his mistress.” Another kiss. “A man with curly black hair I can run my fingers through, yes, definitely.” She demonstrated. “Someone very much like you, in fact.”

Then she gave a small cry as Ilosovic swung her up into his arms. “You are not thinking of carrying me up all those stairs, are you?”

“In case you might appreciate strength in this hypothetical man, I think I had better.”

Casiphia wrapped her arms a bit tighter about his neck and squeezed her eyes shut. “Then go quickly!” she said. “For a whole host of reasons.”

He needed no more encouragement than that, and it wasn't long before he deposited her with a bounce upon their bed. 

“You're very much like the kind of woman I prefer too,” he said in her ear. “Tall enough for me that it isn't ridiculous. Long brown hair, maybe in a braid. Gray eyes. An insatiable appetite for—”

“For what?” she teased.

“For this.” He began peeling away the layers of clothing she had worn to dinner (even in a castle with a fireplace in every room, February was a chill month), and she in turn unbuttoned the many buttons that held his clothing together.

Then she straddled him, laughing, holding his arms above his head by the wrist. “Since I like this so much, it seems only fair to find out if you like it too.”

“And how do you plan to—oh.”

“You're going to stay like that because I give you incentive.”

“Until I decide it's your turn.” He seized her about the waist and deftly reversed their positions, trapping her mouth in a kiss before she could protest. She moved against him until he could no longer resist and slid inside her, and they pulsed together in the rhythm they had perfected so many months before. Tonight they both held off as long as they could, letting go when they were certain they could reach climax together, a worthy goal if not one always achieved. 

Tonight, however, they succeeded, which left the remainder of the night for discussing weighty matters, and when that palled, holding each other close and engaging in the tender sorts of behaviors and words that made those around them so uncomfortable.


	3. Distracted

_“The suspense is terrible. I hope it will last.”  
Oscar Wilde ___

Alice tried to concentrate on the book of strange Underland architecture she had come across in the White Castle library, but found it hard to do so with the Hatter's pacing. At last she was altogether unable to ignore it and closed the book with a clap.

“Tarrant. Tarrant!”

“Hm?” the Hatter said, looking at her in surprise. 

“Can you sit still, possibly, just for a bit?”

“Not while I'm worrying,” he said. “This is what I do. I walk about in hopes that the worries won't be able to follow a circuitous path.”

“Is it working?”

“Well...no,” Tarrant said, dropping to the divan where Alice sat. “I think they're too clever this time.”

“Tell me why you're worried,” Alice said, setting her book aside and taking her flame-haired consort's hands. 

“It's this visit we're about to have from--”

“Konstantin Stayne,” Alice guessed.

“The one,” Tarrant said. “Where has he really from, and why has he appeared now? I've never heard any mention of other Staynes in Queast, although I suppose that can be explained. But even Ilosovic doesn't seem quite convinced that he is authentic, and with Mirana flitting about paying no attention to anything--” He fluttered his hands in the air in demonstration.

“Well, as far as that,” Alice said, “think how long it has been since we've had a visit from a handsome man who isn't already promised elsewhere. I can understand why she is a bit twitterpated about meeting him.”

“Hm,” Tarrant said, unconvinced. “You might be right about that; it has been many years since I've seen her show interest in anyone, er, romantically.”

“I think it's rather sweet to see her like this,” Alice said. “I hope she is able to find something like what we have.” She leaned her head on his shoulder at this, and he gazed fondly at her for a moment.

“Nevertheless, I am keeping an eye on this situation,” he said, his brogue beginning to assert itself now. “We weren't under attack for so many years without learning how to keep ourselves safe. Mirana may not be thinking of that, so I will do it for her.”

“You're a good man,” Alice said. “She's lucky to have you watching out for her, which is something I understand.”

But Tarrant's attention was once again far away. “You will keep the Vorpal close at hand throughout this visit, of course.”

“Of course, if it reassures you,” Alice said. She kept to herself the scenarios that were spinning through her own mind at his words.

* * *

Nivens McTwisp was beside himself trying to keep Mirana moving in one direction. No matter how many times he tapped his pocket watch to show her that she was running late, or turned her around physically so she didn't wander off somewhere unnecessary, she didn't listen to anything he said. Rather, she hummed a little tune under her breath, and spun about with abandon, adding a dance step here and there as she wove about the room.

“Your Majesty!” he finally said loudly, after a series of gradually lengthening coughs had failed to get her attention.

“Yes, Nivens?” Mirana sounded surprised, as if she hadn't quite realized he was there.

The rabbit sighed. “Your guest will be arriving any moment. Should we not be there when he is?”

“Oh my goodness!” the queen said. “Why did you not tell me we were running late? We must fly!”

She flitted out of the room, Nivens following behind with a few more heavy sighs.


	4. Appearances

_"The public have an insatiable curiosity to know everything, except what is worth knowing."  
~Oscar Wilde, “The Soul of the Man Under Socialism and Selected Critical Prose”_

“You're putting a great deal of effort into this,” he said.

Casiphia stopped fastening diamond clips into her court wig long enough to give her consort a kiss of assurance. “This is your family. Besides which, Mirana has made it rather clear that we are to be in full court dress for Konstantin's arrival. You'd think she'd never had company before...but I guess it has been some time since a stranger has had cause to visit.”

“I suppose it is pretty,” Ilosovic said dubiously, surveying the expanse of pale blue satin in which his lady was garbed. He placed a hand on either side of her waist and leaned in to breathe her rose perfume, and she turned her head so his breath fell upon her neck.

Casiphia let herself be lost in the moment. “But now I'm going to have to ask you to move your hands. It's hard enough to get any air in this corset, and you were probably not planning to literally leave me breathless on the floor.”

Disappointed, Ilosovic stepped aside to let her finish her preparations. When she had done so to her satisfaction, she opened a drawer in her dressing table and withdrew an eyepatch.

“Silver embroidered border on this one,” he said, surprised and impressed, even though he had seen the quality of her needlework many times before.

“Not too floral?” He shook his head. “Good, I wasn't sure about that. And see, I rounded off the point on the top of the spade this time,” she said. “Eventually you are going to get feeling back around those scars, and you will thank me for it then.”

“Milady, I thank you for it now,” Ilosovic said, wishing he could give her a kiss full on her lips but knowing he would end up with cosmetics all over his own face if he did so. He settled for biting at the side of her neck to remind her that they had later plans.

By the time Casiphia and Ilosovic reached the gathering the entire court was arrayed on the wide balcony overlooking the path to the White Castle, completely filling the space between the enormous marble knight chess pieces that flanked it. Casiphia quietly took her place in the ranks of courtiers, and Ilosovic stood behind her, his clothing formal, but its blackness a sharp contrast to the pastels the ladies-in-waiting wore. Casiphia had tried to convince him to wear a colored shirt or waistcoat at the very least, but he had refused, saying that a family member would just have to accept him as he normally was. (Still, she did like how he looked in that black tailcoat.)

Mirana, Queen of Marmoreal, did her best to keep still at the front of the crowd. Her hair was dressed with glittering stars, and more of the same decorated the bodice and full skirts of her white gown. Amid the snowy surroundings, it was impossible to miss the brightness in her dark eyes or the smile that came and went from her dark-painted lips. 

And then a whisper went through the crowds as someone spotted a small procession arriving, and Nivens raised his bugle to his lips to announce the visitors.

At first nearly everyone was certain that they had been mistaken, that this was merely a small group of merchants come to ply their accustomed trade. But then the second man in the procession drew back the hood of his brown wool cloak, and the brilliance of the hair that could only be described as gold shone forth. The crowd cheered, both for the sake of protocol and for their queen, who was suddenly even more radiant than before.

The drawbridge fell open, the procession rode through, and the observers on the balcony poured back into the castle in a kaleidoscope of pale colors which sprinkled downstairs to the main hallway. A few people lingered on the stairs hoping they would have a better view—or avoid the commotion going on below.

“Let's see if they bring their horses inside,” Ilosovic whispered to Casiphia.

“Surely they're more civilized than that,” she answered. “Queast isn't all the way to the end of the world, not quite.”

“Isn't that where--”

“Yes, it is where Oran is from and where he returned,” she said. “And the less said about that the better.” It had taken her long enough to get past the trauma caused by her former fiance and his failed plan to send attackers to kill one or the other of them. After that, she and Ilosovic had decided that two names were better not mentioned to (or by) either under normal circumstances: Oran and Iracebeth. Apparently this current matter did not qualify as a normal circumstance.

“Come now, you got a perfectly lovely little gun from the matter, and we both came out of that just fine.”

“The people we killed didn't,” she said, about to add to that statement when she was interrupted by a bugle call heralding an announcement.

“My beloved subjects, I would like to introduce to you Sir Konstantin Stayne,” Mirana proclaimed. The man in question bowed and rose to kiss her hand extravagantly, causing her to blush vividly, and she dropped into a deep and lengthy curtsey. “Please remember, we must all do our best to make him feel welcome here in Marmoreal.”

“Sir?” Ilosovic said. “When did that happen?”

“Maybe she's just being polite,” Casiphia said, although she believed no such thing.  
“Love, are you growling?”

“Yes. No. I might have been.”

“You'd best get that done with, as I'm sure Mirana will be expecting you to join her at any minute.”

“Then you're coming with me,” Ilosovic said, taking his lady by the arm and pulling her down the stairs beside him. Bemused, she picked up her skirts with her other hand and concentrated on not sliding down them in her high-heeled shoes as she did her best to keep up with her consort.


	5. Man of Gold

_“I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects.”  
~Oscar Wilde ___

“There you are!” Mirana cried as she saw them approach. She embraced Casiphia and gestured to Ilosovic. “Konstantin, your cousin Ilosovic. I gather you have not seen him in some time.”

“Or perhaps ever,” Ilosovic said under his breath to Konstantin, who had lunged forward to clasp both his cousin's hands in his own.

“Ilosovic!” Up close the man's attributes did not suffer—he was muscular of physique and his golden hair reflected back the light of the many candles in the entrance hall. Shorter than Ilosovic by about half a foot, his eyes were of a similar enough blue that many around the two could see a family resemblance. Beneath the homespun cloak he wore breeches and shirt of white embroidered with gold, a fitting counterpart to Mirana's garments.

“No, no, of course we have never met face to face,” Konstantin said in a low and resonant tone. “But I have heard tales of your exploits for years, and now that Underland is at peace, it seemed high time I made your acquaintance.”

Ilosovic looked unconvinced, but only Casiphia was watching him. Everyone else seemed to have eyes focused on Konstantin, and whispers of this strange visitor filled the hall and wafted to the high arches that framed the vestibule.

“We shall have to talk,” Konstantin said, now throwing his arm about Ilosovic's shoulder. Apparently he had not heard that it was not a good idea to take liberties with Ilosovic Stayne. However, the one-eyed man held his peace out of protocol and the desire not to make an unpleasant scene in front of what was by now close to the entire population of the castle, not to mention a number of townspeople who could not resist a ceremony of any kind.

“Later,” he mumbled. “For now, you had best get settled.”

“True, true,” Konstantin said. “Your Majesty, I look forward to seeing more of your castle and your land, and of course your lovely self.”

Mirana embarrassed herself with a giggle, but recovered what composure she had left and ordered a pair of liveried voles to lead Konstantin to the guest suites and see that he had everything he could possibly need.

“And you will join us for dinner, I trust?” she said as her visitor prepared to take his leave.

“I shall indeed,” he replied with another low bow.

Casiphia felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Alice.

“This was all rather—odd, was it not?” the girl said.

“If not peculiar,” Casiphia said. “I had better see to Ilosovic. Do tell me if anything else transpires with this Konstantin Stayne out of my presence?”

“Absolutely,” Alice said. “I was thinking of asking Chessur to, well, not spy precisely...”

“But ensure that the queen is safe and not troubled in any way?”

“Nicely put,” Alice said. “I shall borrow that. I take it you agree?”

“Alice, I would feel so much more at ease knowing that you and Chess were observing this. At best, dealing with the awkwardness of a family member suddenly appearing to someone who thought he was the last of his line—well, that may take all the attention I can give.”

Seeing a telltale grin manifesting in the crowd, Alice said, “I'm going to talk to Chess now, then. And you keep me informed if you learn anything yourself.” Casiphia agreed, and Alice darted into the press of people where Casiphia rapidly lost sight of her.

“A bottle of wine awaits you,” she said to Ilosovic, finding him standing grimly against a wall. “Or will, once I find one of the footlizards to procure it.”

“I am willing to try your cure,” he said, “but I do not think I will be truly at ease until that man is out of Marmoreal.”

“Then let us hope he wearies of our company soon,” Casiphia said. “Surely we can do something to make that happen.”

“With Mirana gone all fluttery and half the castle falling over themselves to get a look at him—I imagine that level of attention would be hard to give up.”

“I wouldn't know about that either,” Casiphia said, understanding her husband's bitterness. “I say we go and entertain ourselves. Who needs all this silly falderal?”

“It is that, isn't it?” Ilosovic said. “Very well, let us go and talk of anything other than Konstantin Stayne.”


	6. Accomplices

_“Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.”  
~Oscar Wilde, “The Picture of Dorian Gray” ___

The ploy succeeded until dinner, which was just as awkward as Ilosovic had feared. Konstantin Stayne was seated next to the queen, who smiled and fluttered and doted on him until Ilosovic felt quite sick. Sneaking a glance at Casiphia, he could see that she felt the same way.

“I'm embarrassed for Mirana,” she whispered. “She's like—like a cat in heat, all but rolling around and calling.”

Ilosovic clapped his napkin to his mouth as he choked on the mouthful of tea he had just taken. He bowed his head to hide his expression, but Casiphia could see his shoulders shaking as he laughed uncontrollably, doing his best to muffle the sound, as tea soaked through the napkin.

“Well, it's true,” she insisted. “Haven't you ever seen a cat in heat? Oh, fine. At least you have something you can laugh about when you see Konstantin and Mirana again.”

“Oh, milady, the trouble I would be in if I thought about that in their company,” Ilosovic said, finally taking the napkin away from his face. “But you have made this dinner far more bearable for me, and I thank you for that.”

Casiphia smiled to herself and took a bite of bread. She knew she should not talk this way about her queen, but she also knew her queen was not acting normally, and her nerves often found their expression in inappropriate humor. She had learned better over the years than to try to repress that.

After dinner Konstantin caught up with Ilosovic as he and Casiphia were leaving the dining hall. Again he threw his arm around Ilosovic's shoulders (Casiphia could almost hear her consort's mental growl), and exited the hall with great long strides and a wave of his free arm.

“What can you tell me about this land? And the castle? And your radiant queen?”

Casiphia stifled a laugh at the look on Ilosovic's face and hurried to keep up with the two men. “I believe I can find you some helpful books in our library,” she said to Konstantin, pretending not to notice how taken aback he looked at the prospect. “I will have them sent along to you tonight, how would that be?”

“Oh—fine, fine,” Konstantin mumbled. “But of course I was hoping for a chance to talk with my cousin as well.”

“Of course you were,” Casiphia said, dissembling still. “But it is so late now. Tomorrow after breakfast would be a good time, wouldn't it, dear?”

“I believe so,” Ilosovic said, clapping Konstantin on the back. “Until then, cousin. Good night.” Turning on his heel, he swept Casiphia along with him, and the two made a hasty departure up the staircase to their quarters.

“I know you can't do that indefinitely,” Ilosovic said, “but I thank you for extricating me from that situation tonight.”

Of course,” Casiphia said. “But do you think you might feel differently about the man if you were to spend some time together conversing?”

“Obviously I will have to do so,” he said. “But something about him puts my back up. This is more than the doubts I had about him beforehand. There is something that seems wildly amiss.”

“I feel it too,” Casiphia said. “But it may be my own preconceptions interfering with a clear assessment. I plan to find out as much as I can, and stay wary while I do so.”

“Fair enough,” Ilosovic said. “But milady, if he says or does anything out of line, do not hesitate to stop him. Stab him, shoot him, run him through with his own sword—I don't care. Do not let him get the advantage. Yes, I am telling you things you already know. A reminder never hurt anyone.” 

“For your sake as well as mine,” Casiphia said. “Now come, let us forego the evening and turn in for the night. Morning will come soon enough.”

A night holding his lady might not make him any happier about the arrival of morning, Ilosovic thought, but he wasn't about to turn down the opportunity either.


	7. En Garde

_“He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.”  
~Oscar Wilde, ___

As promised, Konstantin cornered Ilosovic and his lady in the corridor outside the dining hall the next morning.

He stood at an angle so that it was impossible not to notice the large ornate sword and elaborate scabbard he wore at his side. “I know I suggested conversation. It occurred to me rather later that we could converse while we duel, and I could see these sword skills you are so rightly famous for.”

That didn't sound entirely complimentary, and Ilosovic's lips tightened, an expression Casiphia knew well but which Konstantin likely did not notice. She jumped into the conversation to maintain the ruse of civility. “Yes, you two practice fighting. I'm sure Ilosovic will appreciate having a partner who isn't a foot shorter than he is.”

Ilosovic nearly told Konstantin, “That's deceptive—she's a excellent fighter,” but something told him to keep that to himself. He did whisper to Casiphia, “If this goes badly, I will make sure adequate blame is cast on you.” She waved away his words and gave him a little push, and the two men strode off towards the enclosed courtyard where castle residents practiced their fighting skills, the one golden and white, the other dark in hair and clothing and wearing an expression akin to that of a storm cloud.

“So what is it you see in her, anyway?” Konstantin smirked as he neatly parried a blow from Ilosovic's sword. “Aside from the obvious, of course. I mean, the way she talks to you!”

Ilosovic gritted his teeth and refrained from directing his sword at Konstantin's neck for reasons of propriety and not much else. “If you were lucky enough to win a lady like Casiphia, which I doubt will ever happen, then you would understand. It isn't worth explaining if you can't see it for yourself.”

“But come now, cousin. Compared to Mirana...”

“You're on a first-name basis with the queen now?”

“Er...somewhat. Soon, anyway, I can guarantee.”

Ilosovic parried and came back to strike Konstantin's sword from his hand with a twist, and the weapon clanged to the floor several feet away. Breathing heavily (more heavily than he would have cared to admit) he retrieved the sword and handed it back to Konstantin. “Ah, so we are here that I may answer questions about the queen? Sir, there are better sources to inquire of than I.”

“But you must have a...unique...relationship with her,” Konstantin grinned. “Winning her over so thoroughly that she allows you to be part of her castle?”

“For that you can thank Casiphia,” Ilosovic said. “And the passage of time.”

“Ah, cousin.” Konstantin slapped Ilosovic on the shoulder, as hard as if he were killing an insect. “Surely you can at least tell me what manner of presents Mirana would appreciate.”

“You'd do better to talk to Casiphia,” Ilosovic said. “She would know better than I.” He thought better of that as soon as he'd said it. “Or another of the ladies-in-waiting. Ask Rosalba.” He made a mental note to warn Rosalba when he saw her again that Konstantin might seek her out. Somehow he suspected she would think no more highly of Konstantin than Casiphia did.

* * *

Back in their quarters, Casiphia was thoughtful. “Do you know, it feels like a very long time since I have been seduced.”

“No!” Ilosovic said. “What a dreadful realization. Your poor neck.” He bent to kiss her just below her elaborate hairstyle, slowly turning her around till he was nibbling at the hollow of her throat. 

“And poor sad shoulders, how lonely they must have been.” He reinforced his statement by sliding her gown off her shoulders—not that it had far to go—and kissing them, finishing with a firm bite that made her squeak and tilt her hips into his.

“Maybe it's all this clothing that has caused this lack,” he said in a low voice, making short order of her gown and corset. He slid his hands up her chemise and found her breasts, caressing each one with a touch that grew rougher, and she caught up the fabric with both her hands and pulled the garment over her head, wanting to see his actions as well as feel them. As he bit and sucked at each nipple, her head fell back against the wall and she put her arms about his neck to hold herself upright.

“Hmm, seduction,” he said, pausing. “What comes next?”

“If you don't remember,” Casiphia said, “then perhaps you are not the man who ought to be seducing me.”

He caught her up then with what was unquestionable a growl and threw her back upon the bed. Her petticoats joined the remainder of her clothes upon the floor (Casiphia gave only a brief thought to the wrinkles her court gown was likely to incur) and his hands were upon her, all over, sliding and rubbing and fondling till she was quite beside herself.

“You. Clothes. Off,” she gasped.

“Does that mean my seduction has succeeded, milady?”

“That means your seduction will end with a grave injury if you do not take it to its natural conclusion.”

“In that case...”

Lo and behold, Ilosovic had not forgotten how to conduct the remainder of a proper seduction nor Casiphia how to respond, and no one else in the world seemed of much importance for a time.


	8. Clothes Make the Event

_“In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing.”  
~Oscar Wilde, “The Importance of Being Earnest”_

Tarrant Hightopp bit contentedly into one of the small cakes that Thackery had brought up to his workroom and sighed happily. “Better than ever, he is. Although I must try harder to keep crumbs out of the ribbons.”

Given that Tarrant's workload had increased steadily since he had returned to his position as Milliner to the Queen, Thackery Earwicket had recommended they set up a tea table in the workroom. This turned out to be an idea of some brilliance, and Alice and the Hatter soon made a tradition of afternoon tea amidst the flowers and felt of half-created hats. Alice made a point of checking her complexion every day to make certain she was not showing effects of the mercury used in hat-making, but so far she seemed healthy enough. And she did like the atmosphere of the workroom. 

“A dinner in Konstantin's honor?” Alice said. “Honestly, he's charming enough, I suppose, but I don't quite see his appeal.”

“Good.” Tarrant looked intently into her eyes. Alice blinked at him, then smiled before returning to her cup of lavender rose tea.

“Then again, I've done my best to reconcile with Ilosovic, but he still makes my skin crawl if he gets too close. Maybe it's only their kinship that bothers me. I must trust that Mirana can see something in Konstantin that I cannot, and be as supportive of her plans as I can.”

“I would listen to your misgivings,” Tarrant said. “You're hardly the only one having them, and it might behoove us all to pay attention. Many times it is best to be on guard, just in case.”

“True enough,” Alice smiled at him. “Now I suppose we should plan what we are going to wear to this fete. That's likely to be the best part, after all.”

* * *

“As much as I enjoy your attentions to my earlobe—and I do—you should turn loose of me or I may end up in something tonight that Mirana would not approve of at all,” Casiphia said.

“Would it be something I would approve of?” Ilosovic pondered.

“Very doubtful. It would probably be half of a court ensemble and half of what I'm wearing now, and my hair matching neither.”

“I would find you no less lovely,” he said, but let her go with one warm breath in her ear. “And I might have even more incentive to get those clothes off you.”

“And much as I hate to ask it, perhaps you should behave yourself under the table tonight,” she continued, ignoring the bait he dangled. “We are likely to be under more scrutiny than usual, given the identity of the guest of honor.”

“Yet another reason why I would prefer to avoid the evening meal,” Ilosovic grumbled. 

“I do love you in evening dress, though.”

“I thought you loved me anyway,” he said, throwing his arms around her from behind.

“Nice try,” Casiphia said, wriggling away. “Go. The sooner we get started, the sooner this will be over.”

“A better philosophy than many,” Ilosovic said as he rang for his valet.


	9. A Cat and a Box

_“My own business always bores me to death; I prefer other people's.”  
~Oscar Wilde_

“No tea for me?”

Alice jumped at the words purred so very close to her ear. “If you had been here half an hour ago, you could have had all the tea you wanted. Now there is nothing left but the dregs of Tarrant's cup.”

The Cheshire Cat picked up the cup in question and scrutinized it. “If I wanted to tell your fortune with the tea leaves, I could do that. Unfortunately, I do not know how to read tea leaves, so I suppose there is nothing left here for me to do.”

“Don't you dare!” Alice said. “I assume you came here with information for us. You said nothing about the price for that being tea.”

“But would it not be polite to offer?”

“As she said, Chess, you should have been here half an hour ago. Tea is always at the same time,” the Hatter put in. “Except when it isn't. But today it was, and where were you?”

“Well,” Chess said, curling his not insubstantial gray-striped body along the back of Tarrant's chair, “I have been in the guest room of one Konstantin Stayne.”

“And what have you learned?” Alice said, leaning forward to fix his turquoise eyes with her own blue ones.

“That the man is an unsufferable dandy,” the cat said. “And he makes terrible tasteless jokes with the men he rode here with, and he is loud when there is no need to be, and he keeps a locked box in his traveling trunk.”

“A locked box?” Alice said, perking up.

“About the size of, oh, a breadbox, but I do not believe it contains bread. Occasionally he takes it out of the trunk and disappears into the washroom with it. I would follow, but there are times a person wants to be alone, and frankly, there are things a cat does not wish to see, if you can countenance that.”

“This is most intriguing,” Tarrant said. “Do you think you could get into the box?”

“My head might fit in the box,” Chess said. “Or a paw. I guess either might be good enough, eh?”

“Yes, Chess, please see what is in the box,” Alice said with some exasperation.

“He is the laziest creature on earth,” she said in a whisper to Tarrant after the cat had bowed and taken his leave. “We might already know something important if he had bothered to look.”

“On the other hand, without him, we would know nothing at all,” the Hatter pointed out.

“True enough,” Alice admitted. “Maybe we could bribe him with an afternoon wearing your hat...”

“Never again,” said Tarrant, settling his charred top hat more firmly atop his curly hair. “He left hairs all over it last time and it was the very devil to clean.”


	10. Presentation

_“A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.”  
~Oscar Wilde_

The dinner in honor of Konstantin Stayne took place in the Great Hall, which was lit as brightly as anyone present had ever seen it. The hothouses had been ransacked for flowers, which were heaped in waxy white profusion on the long table and hung in garlands over every door and window.

The courtiers wore their most formal dress, and every other guest was garbed in the finest clothing they owned. A harpist played softly in a corner near the head of the table, and the profusion of candles banished every thought of darkness from the room despite the sunset that had long since passed.

The guest of honor sat blatantly close to the Queen, pressing his arm against hers when he had the opportunity, pouring her wine rather than allowing the serving owl to do so. Mirana's courtiers exchanged skeptical looks, but politely kept their thoughts to themselves, at least for the duration of the meal.

However, when the queen stood up and drew a crystalline chime from her glass as she tapped it with a knife, there was more than one worried sigh.

“My dears, all of you, I would like to thank you for making our guest so welcome,” Mirana said with a glowing smile, unaware of the responses of the rest of her dinner guests. “Konstantin Stayne has traveled a long ways to grace us with his company, and I know you are enjoying his visit as much as I am.”

Casiphia kicked Ilosovic under the table before he could say anything out loud.

“We will adjourn to the small ballroom after dessert for games and dancing to continue this wonderful evening. Please, carry on, make merry!”

The guests politely applauded as the queen resumed her seat, but fell silent as the honoree stood up next.

“I am pleased indeed to have come to this beautiful land and met such wonderful people,” Konstantin Stayne said in a voice that rang through the room. “Your queen has shown me such hospitality--” he took Mirana's hand and she blushed happily-- “and I am glad to have made the acquaintance of so many of her trusted friends. In particular, I would like to thank my cousin Ilosovic for having made it possible for me to be here with you tonight. Stand, Ilosovic, if you will.”

“He is doing this to embarrass me and nothing else,” Ilosovic said to Casiphia as he got unwillingly to his feet and inclined his head towards his cousin. He sat back down as quickly as possible and fixed the man with an eye of burning blue.

“More than likely,” Casiphia said. “But it's over with now. And we can probably escape dessert without much notice and remove ourselves from this embarrassing scene.”

“No sooner said than done,” Ilosovic said, draining the remainder of his honeyed wine in a single draft. Casiphia looked at her own glass, and followed suit. 

“Ugh,” she said as they slipped as inconspicuously as possible from the great hall. “Look at him. If he doesn't turn loose of her hand, I don't see how she is going to eat.”

“She doesn't look as though she cares,” Ilosovic said. “Join me on the great balcony? I need some peace and fresh air, but I don't think I would care for the results of being impolitic and hiding out in our quarters. If you'd like to throw something at him first, I might feel better.”

“Oh?” Casiphia said, looking about for a convenient projectile and finally taking a diamond-set clip from her hair for lack of anything better. Aiming carefully from just outside the doorframe, she bounced it off Konstantin's feathered cap and then turned away quickly as he glanced around to see what had hit him and where it had come from.

“Let's get warm cloaks,” she said. “I feel we may want to stay outside a while.”

As they started up the stairway to their floor, they ran—almost literally—into Tarrant Hightopp, who was pacing on the landing.

“Tarrant, what are you doing here?” Casiphia said, with a hand on the Hatter's back to steady him as he startled upon noticing them.

“Kinship. Kowtow. Keelhaul.” His eyes were still green, but shading deeper in a way that warned of dark emotions.

“All of which I notice start with the letter 'K,'” Ilosovic said. “As in 'Konstantin.'”

“There is something about the man I find disturbing, and also familiar,” the Hatter said. “I know he is your cousin, Ilosovic--”

Ilosovic held up a hand to stop him. “He says he is my cousin, Tarrant. I haven't seen much evidence to confirm either way.”

Tarrant stopped pacing but looked no less worried. “Alice has asked Chess to do some, er, observing. I hope that soon he provides us with that evidence.” His eyes were fading now to their usual brilliant green.

“If there's anything we can do, just ask,” Casiphia said. “Right, Ilosovic?” There came no answer, so she jabbed an elbow into her consort's mid-section.

“Right, right,” Ilosovic said. “Whatever it takes to get rid of that man.”

“Come, dear, let's get those cloaks,” Casiphia said, resuming her way upstairs and pulling Ilosovic with her. Once they were warmly dressed, they went back down the same way and found that Tarrant was no longer pacing the landing. “I hope that is a good sign rather than the opposite,” Casiphia said. “But for now, we are going to pretend there is no one in the world other than ourselves.”

They slipped quietly past the door to the great hall and into the smaller room that gave out onto Marmoreal's largest balcony, the one with the most panoramic view. This was especially true this time of year, Casiphia thought, with the snow-veiled landscape lying like a rumpled blanket, and the scattered deep green of pine trees from which the snow had slid, and the partially frozen rivers narrowing the waterfalls to thin rivulets that glittered like icicles under the moonlight.

Casiphia stretched up to kiss Ilosovic, his face cold against hers and a few stray snowflakes spangling his hair. “I've always liked winter,” she said. “It's a beautiful time of year. And you are beautiful in it.”

Despite the worries that crowded his mind, Ilosovic could not help but laugh with pleasure. “I don't know that my pride needs any help, but it appreciates your viewpoint.”

“I tell the truth as I see it,” she said. “That is all.”

Arranging folds of their cloaks to provide something of a cushion beneath them, they settled themselves on the wide balcony railing and leaned against each other to take deep breaths of the chill air. With the doors closed against the noise and light of the White Castle, the peace of the outdoors was restorative, exactly what they both needed.

“I agree, there should be no one in the world save us,” he said.


	11. Predicaments and Plans

_“Lean on principles, one day they'll end up giving way.”  
~Oscar Wilde_

Tarrant was hoping for a quiet and relaxing breakfast the next morning, but a hiss in his ear intercepted him before he could even exit his quarters.

“Greetingsss. Would you like to hear what I have learned?”

“Goodness gracious, yes. Alice!”

Alice came into the room with her hairbrush in one hand, wondering why Tarrant was shouting her name. “You have news?” she said as soon as she saw Chessur.

“What kind of greeting is that?” Chess said. “From both of you, yet. What has happened to civilized discourse?”

“It has gone on holiday until we get this mystery resolved,” Alice said. She grabbed at the Cat's scruff, but he dematerialized in a wisp of smoke, to reappear several feet away. “Now, now,” he said. “Curiosity and all.”

Tarrant dropped into a wing-back chair and perched on the edge of its seat. “Chess. What have you to report?”

The Cheshire Cat settled himself in mid-air, licked delicately at one paw, then rearranged himself in a more comfortable position. Tarrant looked as if he were about to snap the Cat's head off, but Alice put a hand on his shoulder to bid him wait just a bit longer.

“Konstantin Stayne's wooden box,” Chessur said with no further prelude. “I stuck my head in when he was out of the room, and found that it contains a few things.”

“Which are...” Alice prompted.

“An earring of Mirana's. A wad of Marmorean cash. A hairclip that looks like it might be Casiphia's.”

“Oh, she isn't going to be pleased,” Alice murmured.

“A lock of Mirana's hair...”

“That isn't good at all,” the Hatter said.

“And a flat amulet of some sort.”

“Really.” Tarrant sat bolt upright and his eyes rapidly turned to amber. “Can you describe it?”

“It's enameled, has a coat of arms on it. Looks like a sword and maybe a thimble?”

The Hatter was instantly on his feet. “I knew it. Or I thought I knew it. Or does that mean I knew it? How is a raven like a writing desk?”

“They both have inky quills,” Alice said soothingly with a hand on Tarrant's arm. “Darling, what is the significance of this amulet?”

“Remember the disgraced Hightopps I told you about, the ones who moved of their own accord to the Outlands but who supported Iracebeth from all the way out there?” Alice nodded. “It looks like they're up to no good yet again.

“That amulet? It contains a spell that affects how a person appears to those around him. And a lock of hair is traditionally used for spell-casting.”

“Such as, for love spells?” Alice said, dismay growing on her face.

“Exactly.” Tarrant's face was grim.

“What do you think he wants?” Alice said.

“Probably the usual,” Chessur offered. “Riches, power, acclaim, unconditional adoration...”

“Better than taking over Underland, I suppose,” Alice said. “But odious enough. I feel even sicker now about Mirana's behavior towards that man.”

“We have to get that amulet,” Tarrant declared. “Chess?”

“You seem to forget,” Chess purred, “that while I can put my head into a box, I cannot take anything out of that box except by the traditional method of opening the lid.”

“He's wandering about the castle enough,” Alice said. “It shouldn't be too hard to get into his room.”

“I'd want a good distraction, regardless,” said Tarrant, passing Alice as he paced.

“Plus his two men,” Alice said. 

“I wonder if they can be lured by good horses?” Tarrant said.

“We can introduce them to Brautigan,” giggled Alice, who hadn't found Ilosovic's horse to be much better-tempered than his rider.

“A perceived threat to their horses,” Tarrant said. “Our groomsmen are trustworthy; I will ask one of them to tell Konstantin's followers that their horses have gotten loose.”

“Konstantin, or whatever his name is,” Alice said.

“It most certainly is not Stayne,” Tarrant said. “Which I'm sure will come as a great relief to ours.”

“Ours,” Alice grimaced. “But speaking of him—he would provide an excellent distraction to his erstwhile cousin.”

“As much as Konstantin hangs about him when he gets the chance, no doubt,” Tarrant said.

“Don't forget to give Casiphia a job,” Chess said. “She'll find her way into the middle of this regardless.”

“Distracting Mirana!” Alice said. “It ought to be simple enough to find some court business to occupy half an hour.”

“Then we have a plan,” Tarrant said. “Which of us should tell Casiphia and Ilosovic that they have a part in it?”

“Let's go together,” Alice said. “That will be more pleasant, if pleasant such a thing can possibly be. Chess, you too. You're the one who's seen the contents of the mysterious wooden box.”

Why not? Chess thought. After all, he was the one who could disapparate, so it would be impossible for him to find any conversation unpleasant for long.

* * *

Ilosovic put his sword through a tapestry when the trio told him their news. He wasn't keen on the idea of deliberately spending time with Konstantin, but the result they hoped for was enough to overcome his distaste.

Casiphia thought for a moment. “Rosalba and I have been working on a piece of embroidery for Mirana,” she said. (Aha! thought Ilosovic. One mystery solved.) “If I get to work on it now, and ask her to do the same, we could have it finished by tomorrow and present it to her then. Will that be soon enough?”

“Unless you have a better distraction,” Tarrant said. “That should be fine. Alice and I can do the work of sneaking into Konstantin's room, and Chessur can come along to show us where this box is hidden.”

“Do confront him with the amulet,” Ilosovic said. “Don't just destroy it when you find it.”

“Vengeful,” Tarrant said, “but appealing. Anyway, Mirana needs to see what he's been up to.”

“Then I must get to work.” Casiphia located her sewing basket and began setting up her work space. “If someone will ring for tea, and see if Rosalba is free to join me?”

Tarrant and Alice made their farewells, followed eventually by Chess, who seemed to linger after everyone else on many an occasion.

“Enjoy your embroidery, love. I hope the metallic threads behave,” Ilosovic said. “While you do that, I have my own activities to concentrate on.”

“What, are you going to tumble a chambermaid while I am thus occupied?”

“No, valets are amusing to menace, but I have long since tired of women who are afraid of me,” Ilosovic said.

“As if I am to believe that all those women only succumbed because they were afraid of you,” Casiphia said. “I know better.”

Ilosovic could not help but preen a bit at that. “Well then, I have come to prefer women who fight back.” He loomed over her with a hand on either arm of her chair, at which she discreetly pulled back her skirts and kicked him in the shin.

“As I said,” he leered, leaning in for a long and probing kiss.

“I shall meet you tonight in the marital bed?” Casiphia said when she had her lips and her breath both back. 

“Or an audience room, or the kitchens, or the library...”

“Or wherever I might find you,” she said. “Absolutely. Now go get your sword sharpened, because I know that's what you were about to do, and let me get this finished.”

“One more to remember me by,” Ilosovic said, and gave her a kiss so dizzying that it was a full five minutes before she could locate her scissors.


	12. Break and Enter

_“You are a wonderful creation. You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know.”  
~Oscar Wilde, “The Picture of Dorian Gray”_

Konstantin's guards or groomsmen or henchmen, whatever they might be in truth, lumbered down the hallway in distress over their supposedly roaming horses as Alice and Tarrant listened from the room adjoining that of the purported Stayne cousin.

“Now!” Alice said, throwing open the door. Tarrant, weighed down by a bandolier of sewing instruments, was right behind her, jimmying the lock to Konstantin's room with a pair of miniature shears, and the two were in.

The room looked little different from any other assigned to castle guests, save for the large quantity of brushes and powders and other grooming items scattered about every surface. “And I thought Ilosovic was vain,” Alice whispered.

“Chess!” Tarrant hissed. He was about to do so again when the cat apporated before them, lying on his back with all four paws curled into his body. 

“Are we ready?” the cat grinned.

“Show us the box,” Alice ordered.

Chess slowly uncurled, then swam through the air to a chest of drawers where he pointed at the one on the bottom left. “Right there,” he said.

Tarrant's hand moved to a smaller pair of scissors, then skimmed over them and landed on a pair of tweezers. “This should work,” he said, mainly to himself, as he began working the lock on the drawer.

“Ha!” he triumphantly whispered as the lock sprang open. He felt around inside the drawer, finding first only several handfuls of colorful cravats, but finally seizing upon the plain wooden box they sought and withdrawing it.

“So innocuous to be causing so much trouble,” Alice observed.

“Isn't that always the way?” Tarrant said. “Go ask Mally.”

He was now selecting a large needle from his tailor's bandolier and gently working it into the lock on the box. This produced nothing, so he switched to a smaller needle (Alice bouncing beside him in her anxiety), which proved to be the proper size. A tiny click, and the lock slid open. Alice threw the lid open, and Tarrant and Chess looked over her shoulder to survey the items within.

There were the lock of hair, and the hair clip, and a few items Chess had neglected to mention, such as a thimble and a rabbit whisker. But it was the medallion nestled securely in a bed of golden silk that they were after.

Tarrant looked about the room as if he could not help himself before he dropped the medallion into an empty pocket. Alice stole to the window, which happily overlooked the stables, and gently drew the curtain aside. “I see them,” she whispered. “It will take them a few minutes to get back up here, but they don't look pleased and I don't want to cross paths with them when they get here.”

While she kept watch, Tarrant relocked the wooden box, with some help from the smaller needle, and slipped it back inside the drawer with the cravats. The drawer lock slipped back into position on its own, which left only the door lock to contend with. 

Apparently Tarrant had knocked a bit of the turning mechanism loose, because they could hear the angry voices of Konstantin's men on the stairs before he was able to fix it. Finally with a last turn of his scissors, the lock slipped into place, and the three scurried back into the room next door.

“And now the bloody door won't open!” they heard one of Konstantin's men say. This was followed by the sound of pounding and a kick, and finally the offended squeak of hinges. 

“At least it keeps our belongings safe,” said the other man, and it was all Alice could do not to burst into torrents of nervous laughter.

Tarrant, Alice, and Chess waited a good quarter of an hour before they dared leave, glad that Konstantin's men were a noisy pair and that it was easy to tell that they were taking a nap from heavy silence followed by snores.

The guest wing had several flights of stairs, one or two little used, and the three fled down those as quietly as they could until they reached the floor where their own quarters lay.

“All I want to do is lie down and drink a glass of wine,” Alice gasped. “But we'd better find the other two first.”

“You can't lie down and drink wine anyway, Alice,” the Hatter said. “You'll just pour it all over yourself, if you don't choke."

“Silly me,” Alice murmured as she continued down the steps past their floor.

They found Ilosovic outside the weapons practice courtyard, leaning against the wall, hand on his sword hilt. “It was all I could do not to gut the man,” he grumbled. “I'm sure he's bragging even now to his men about how he bested me at fighting.”

“It doesn't matter, we know the truth.” Casiphia and her fellow lady-in-waiting Rosalba were crossing the white marble floor towards them. “Think of it as service to your kingdom. A way to impress your lady?”

“If we were still courting, maybe,” he said, looking at her fondly.

“Did we ever court, really, exactly?” Casiphia said. “Think of this as filling in the lack.”

He bared his teeth at her, but turned that quickly into a kiss. The others all looked aside, still not entirely accustomed to all the levels of affection the two continually displayed.

“Now what?” Alice said loudly.

“Now we destroy this thing,” Tarrant said, patting the pocket that held the amulet. “Unfortunately, I think we should do it publicly so that there is no question what we are doing, and why, and that means at dinner. I can't imagine why Konstantin wouldn't be there; it's his best chance to impress Mirana and the court.”

“Not that he needs to impress Mirana, with her lock of hair.” Alice shuddered. “Tarrant, do you think he was exerting that power even when we scried for him?”

“He must have been,” Tarrant grimaced. “And through a scrying bowl—that shows the amulet must be more powerful than we realized. I hope it's possible to destroy it without magical means.”

“I know how we can rid ourselves of him,” said Ilosovic, caressing his sword hilt.

“Only if he's being a direct threat to someone,” Casiphia cautioned. “I'd hate to give up my life in Marmoreal to accompany you to the wilderness if you killed the queen's paramour.”

“I hate that man,” Ilosovic said. 

“As do we all.” Tarrant looked thoughtful. “Alice?”

“Hmm?” she said. “I was just wondering if--”

“The Vorpal--” Tarrant finished.

“I'm off to get it right now,” Alice declared, turning on her heel to do just that.

“I shall wait until dinner is finished,” Tarrant said. “If I jump up on the table, no one will think anything of it.”

“I'm glad you realize it,” Ilosovic said. The Hatter ignored him.

“And I will pull Alice up with me—it will look only as if she's dressed for a formal event if she's wearing the Vorpal sword. I will throw the medallion onto the table and she can cleave it with the sword. Ilosovic, since you, as usual, are out for blood, you can be my backup in case something goes wrong.”

“You're going to send me upstairs to make sure no one leaves with the box, aren't you?” Casiphia said mournfully.

“No, you need to be here. The absence of a lady-in-waiting would surely be noted,” Tarrant said. “Be Ilosovic's backup, if you like.”

Casiphia patted the thigh holster that held the Derringer pistol she now customarily wore. “If the Vorpal doesn't work, maybe Henrietta will.”

“Hm.” Tarrant tilted his head. “Good thinking. Yes, that is your job.”

“So who makes sure the box doesn't leave with Konstantin and his men?” Casiphia said.

“The Tweedles are good at getting in the way,” the Hatter said. “But Mally is meaner, if tiny.”

“Ask them all,” Casiphia said. “They'd love to be part of this, I'm sure.”

“Then we have a plan,” Tarrant said. “I will see you all at dinner tonight. Be sure to dress for a fight.”

Ilosovic began to speak but Casiphia interrupted him. “Yes, I know, you're always dressed for a fight. Which is lucky, because no one will think a thing of it.”


	13. Apprehension

_“Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities.”  
~Oscar Wilde_

Dressing for a fight, for Casiphia, meant pinning up the overskirt of her gown so she wouldn't have to fumble for her gun if it were needed. For Alice, it meant a tunic and trousers of pale blue silk, over which she wore the embossed scabbard that held the Vorpal sword. As for Ilosovic, Casiphia managed to talk him into wearing a purple shirt, as it would appear less threatening than his traditional black.

Dinner felt as if it took forever for the two couples, as well as for Mallymkun. Chessur had exercised his privilege to be absent until something exciting happened, and the Tweedles handled their nerves by being particularly obstreperous. Mirana, as usual these days, was completely unaware of anything besides Konstantin Stayne and his attentions to her.

“For someone who dislikes obsequious behavior, she's awfully patient with him,” Casiphia sighed.

But finally, finally the moment arrived.

Tarrant leaped up on the table, where the dinner guests regarded him with mild interest. When Alice joined him, they prepared themselves for a speech or performance. But when he threw a metal disc onto the table before him and Alice raised the Vorpal, not a soul could look away.

Ilosovic and Casiphia were on their feet, armed, as Alice drove the Vorpal into the center of the amulet. There was a tremendous roaring sound and a purple flash before every candle and gaslight in the room blew out, and several of the windows crashed in, snow and cutting wind gusting into the room.

Alice held the Vorpal over her head so its purple light could illuminate the room, which it did surprisingly well. There, where the man who called himself Konstantin Stayne had been sitting, was a shorter man with Hightopp orange hair and a look of shock upon his face. This, however, was nothing compared to the rage upon Queen Mirana's face as she realized how she had been deceived.

“Away with him!” she screamed over the mutters of the dinner guests. 

“Gladly!” Ilosovic said, leaping forward to seize the man and drag him out of the room. He did not do so alone, as Tarrant was there holding on to the man's other arm.

They dragged him into the throne room, followed by Casiphia and Alice, still keeping tight hold of their weapons. And there, with three swords and a Derringer pointed at him, the erstwhile Konstantin Stayne underwent questioning.

“Why didn't you simply come here as my family?” Tarrant said.

“You know what branch I am from,” Konstantin shrugged. “You would not have stood for that for a minute.”

“Then why me?” Ilosovic said, moving his sword tip a fraction closer to the imposter's throat.

“Why not? Lost Stayne relations are believable--”

“Almost,” Casiphia cut in under her breath.

“And I could play sword hero to impress the queen. And if I impressed the queen enough, I could have myself a lovely and powerful wife.”

“Who would be impressionable and responsive to your whims,” Alice said through her teeth, tightening her grip on the Vorpal.

“Stanley Hightopp? Is that who you truly are?”

“At your service,” the imposter grinned.

“I don't know what punishment is adequate for this,” Casiphia said.

“I do.”

They turned—hands still on weapons—to see Mirana in the doorway. 

“No, Casiphia, I will not again forsake my vows never to hurt a single living thing. But I believe that sending this man and his helpers all the way back to Queast on horseback, in the middle of winter as we are, might be a miserable enough experience to go partway towards easing my anger.

“And from this day forth, there will be a protection spell on my kingdom that will prevent him and any of his clan from setting foot in Marmoreal from now until the end of time.”

“Your Majesty, I am so sorry,” Tarrant murmured, looking at the floor.

“Nonsense,” she said. “Did you not just eliminate this threat to me? Your loyalty to me has never been in doubt, Tarrant Hightopp, never. Nor that of your family in Marmoreal.

“And the rest of you, as well as the others who I am told are upstairs now on my behalf, will have my gratitude always. You might look for something extra in your Yule stocking.”

“But Yule is over,” Alice said.

“Only first Yule,” Mirana beamed. “If this does not call for a second celebration, I do not know what does.”

Before additional plans for additional Yules could be made, Mallymkun entered the room proudly, ahead of Tweedledee and Tweedledum, who were arguing about who should properly carry the wooden box.

“But I touched it first, I did, I did,” Dee said.

“Then it's my turn now, you worthless yob,” said Dum.

“Give it to the queen!” Mally shouted.

Mirana took the box gingerly, and upon realizing it was locked, sent a page to the kitchen to retrieve one of her potions. A drop of that upon the lock dissolved it with a “pfffft” and a tiny puff of pink smoke, and the queen opened the box.

First she drew out the lock of her own hair, and blanched even paler than normal. “Destroy this,” she told Tarrant, who threw it into the fireplace and watched until it was burned entirely.

“Casiphia, you will want this, I expect,” Mirana said, handing the diamond clip to her lady-in-waiting, who was outraged at the sight of it. “And Tarrant.” The Hatter took the thimble she handed him, blew on it, and tucked it into another pocket.

“And this,” she shook her head sadly at the sight of the rabbit whisker. “Give this back to Nivens. I do not want anyone else to have such power against my most loyal subjects.”

“Mirana, Your Majesty, I'm so sorry,” Casiphia said, putting an arm around her queen's shoulders and leading her away from the group. “How sad that this ended thusly.”

“Ah well.” The queen smiled bravely. “It was not real affection I felt for him, or admiration, or love, I realize now. The man I cared for doesn't exist at all.”

She drew her wrap closer around her shoulders, and Casiphia realized that she was wearing the silvery silk organza shawl with the embroidered constellations that she and Rosalba had made for their queen.

“It's good that we didn't finish that in time for Yule, I guess,” Casiphia said.

“Any time you gave me this, it would tell me to remember who my true friends are,” Mirana said. “And it reminds me to look up at the sky and appreciate the wondrous land I live in. I will always remember who truly cares and is loyal. And I thank you.” They embraced and exchanged a long glance filled with history before they were besieged by all the others with hugs and handshakes all around.

“I”m turning in for the night,” Mirana said. “This has been a taxing evening.”

“I won't be able to sleep,” Casiphia complained. “I'm far too keyed up after all that.”

“That shouldn't be a problem. Wasn't there someone you were supposed to meet tonight?” Ilosovic said softly into her ear.

“Oh, was there?” Her teasing went no further as his mouth traveled down her neck to her shoulder. “Dear, are you growling again?”

“Yes, yes, I am. Come with me and let me show you why...”

~The End~


End file.
